by Travis Tufo
All That Remain
The Last Autumn
Travis Tufo
Contents
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
About the Author
Also by Travis Tufo
Also From DevilDog Press
Thank You!
All That Remain: The Last Autumn:
Copyright © 2016 by Travis Tufo
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All rights reserved.
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No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
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Editor: Sheila Shedd
Cover art: Dane at ebooklaunch.com
Created with Vellum
To my Mom and Dad, because she made me put this in here.
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Thank you for all your time, input and red marks Sheila, it is appreciated.
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Thank you to Lisa Evans, Susan Dimuzio and Jaime Johnesee for taking the time to beta read for me. Your help and input is valued.
Prologue
CATASTROPHES ARE CAUSED by many things: Evil men given too much power, disagreements between two countries that quickly escalate into a bloody war, acts of God, scientific blunders. But this one started out on a microscopic level. Humans were not to blame when it came to this great epidemic. It quickly grew into the largest disaster the world had ever seen thus far in only a matter of days, and there was absolutely no solution to be found.
Deep in the Amazon rainforest, one of the world’s smallest and usually most insignificant creations changed everything. One lone ant separated itself from his hive to scout for food—a common act done by ants, by no means out of the ordinary. Along his unfruitful journey he spotted something in the distance and continued in the direction of the unknown wonder. Upon getting closer the scout could distinguish that it was just another ant in the distance perched on a leaf not too high off the ground. Usually he would have simply gone on his way and continued to look for food. But there was something different here; the scout was too intrigued by the utter motionlessness of the ant in the distance. He set off towards the perched ant once more, climbing over forest terrain along the way. Once he was mere inches from the statue-like ant, he was confronted by an eerie sight. A large stick-like tentacle was protruding from between the stationary ant’s head and thorax.
The scout acknowledged this but figured the ant had fallen victim to a dangerous predator. He then decided to get a move on before the predator returned and perhaps dealt him the same fate as his fallen comrade. Before the tiny ant could climb back down the leaf and continue his journey home, the tentacle-stick coming from the solidified ant started to sway ever so slightly. This caught the attention of the scout and startled him. In one quick movement he turned to scurry back to camp, but before he could even get off the leaf, a small sac on the tentacle erupted, sending thousands of tiny little spores spreading all over the leaf and forest floor. This didn't halt the fleeing ant as he continued down the leaf. However, a single, minuscule spore had landed on his thorax where it would start the process of burrowing through his exoskeleton.
The spore that landed on the scout was smaller than a grain of sand; there was no way he could have known that it had landed on him. After a long journey home, the ant was relieved to see his hive once more, unaffected and seemingly fine and out of danger. Little did he know that the spore had already broken through his protective covering and was planting itself inside his nervous system where it would begin taking over his movements and his mind.
The burrowing spore was born of a previously infected ant diseased with Ophiocordyceps, a commonly known "zombie ant parasite,” capable of wiping out entire ant hives through rapidly spreading infection. The scout would have created this epidemic within his own hive, however, after multiple genocides caused by the deadly parasite, evolution has allowed ants to develop a means of spotting signs of Ophiocordyceps early on and acting by removing the unfortunate creature from their hive before the infected ant can cause mass extinction.
These ants spotted their infected scout early in his symptoms, carried him far from the hive, and left him to die. However, the parasite did as it is supposed to do to survive. It needed a source of nutrients to feed its growing phase, so, much like the originally infected ant, the exiled scout climbed to the top of the nearest leaf and clasped its jaw around the middle vein of the leaf, where it would remain attached even after death. This ensured the parasite would continue to access the sap through the ant’s body, like a straw. Within days, the ant host had died, and the same stock-like fungus broke through the neck of the host’s body. At the top bloomed a similar sac of spores. It was now reaching the exact stage as the ant before it, with fruitful spores ready to be spread to the next passing ant.
That’s when it happened. It was as if this particular ant wasn’t supposed to destroy his own hive, but had been given a higher purpose. A small toddler girl named Apollonia, which means “destroyer” in her native language, was exploring the vast tangled rainforest with her newfound ability to walk on her own, playing around with every stick on the ground and every large leaf hanging low enough to reach. She made her way stumbling around the forest floor laughing and smiling and touching things. After making it far enough into the forest, she set her curious little eyes on the motionless ant on the leaf. She bent down to eye level with the infected insect. She was so interested in the strange thing coming from its neck. She had seen many ants before, but never with one of those attached to it. She observed more, until she came to the conclusion that it was a type of berry the ant was eating. She quickly snatched the ant and the “berry” and threw them into her mouth. Without chewing, she swallowed the duo down whole. As the sac hit her tongue, it erupted, sending thousands of tiny spores all over her mouth, which she also swallowed. The taste was unpleasant and her little face shriveled up. It wasn't long after that she heard her mother calling for her to come back to the nearby village. Little Apollonia listened to her mother and began to stumble back home, humming along to a tribal song she had in her head. Before now, in every other known case in the entire world, this parasite would have absolutely no effect on a human. But Apollonia was very young, her body just developing, her immune system weak. Most significantly there had been an anomalous mutation in this particular fungus. The spore attached itself to her as if she was just another ant. In fact, she made the process even easier as she swallowed the spores down whole, eliminating a few tedious tasks for the parasite
Chapter One
ELI WAS A twenty-four year old college dropout living in Colorado. He had short, dirty blonde hair, which he usually kept spiked or in a bed-head look, and an athletic build from playing football the two years he was in college. He stood five feet ten inches tall and weighed one hundred ninety pounds, but this was dropping as he was losing muscle due to an end of lifting weights. Eli’s reasons for dropping out of college consisted of the following: first, he couldn’t justify paying over one hundred thousand dollars in student loans to come out probably making less than thirty thousand a year, second, he had a severe lack of
motivation, and finally, he felt ready to step into the “real world,” a common mistake in the younger generations, and he was, indeed, very wrong about that. When he did step into the real world, he was met with its rough greeting, like a slap straight to the face. He struggled to find a job that paid well, and after weeks of trying and failing at finding a salary that would keep him comfortable, he regrettably lowered his standards to anything he could get. He eventually landed a retail job at Renfield’s, a large department store. They, of course, paid him minimum wage, and he didn’t expect to make much more anytime soon. Though the pay was bad, the job itself wouldn’t have been too bad, had it not been for his dickhead boss. Charles Atkins was the type of man who would fire you for helping a customer too much.
Eli's parents had moved clear across the states to northern Maine. They were living well off their recent success in buying, renovating, and flipping homes there. His father did much of the physical work, tightening plumbing, replacing carpet, filling holes in drywall, while his mother, with her great marketing skills, sold the houses. Eli could have stayed with them; they would have paid for college, but he chose a more independent route when he remained in Colorado. His main reason was his desire to be with his girlfriend—another mistake for young people. His girlfriend, Gwen, was attending Colorado University, studying business. Since Eli was "madly in love" he blindly chose her over his parents. Unfortunately, their relationship didn't last more than a month once Gwen met the men in her classes.
Mainly out of pride and embarrassment, Eli didn't speak to his parents often, nor did he allow them to find out about his financial problems. They didn't exactly have “bad blood” between them, they simply didn't talk much. It had been a very long week. Eli was just coming home from his tiring shift at Renfield’s. That day he had worked a 1 p.m. to 10 p.m. shift. He lived forty-five minutes away, so alongside the extra time it took to actually close the store, he didn't make it home until 11:30. For most people his age, this isn’t too late, but it was only Thursday and Eli had another early shift tomorrow. His boss took the liberty of scheduling that shift at 5 a.m., right when the store opened for its employees. Eli was used to the shit storm his boss regularly put him through by this point. He pulled up to his apartment’s parking lot just in time to see a drug deal happen. He shrugged it off, as it wasn't anything really out of the blue in his current living conditions.
"Don't do drugs, kids," he whispered to himself as he got out of his beat up, used, 1990 Toyota Camry. He was still smirking from his comment making fun of the stupid programs schools try to force on kids to avoid drugs.
"What the hell are you looking at, loser?" one of the kids, no older than sixteen, shouted out when he noticed Eli looking at them. Eli shook his head and headed towards his apartment trying to avoid any unnecessary conflict with the minors. The two teenagers quickly rushed to cut Eli off. Now face to face, the dealer asked again:
"I said what the hell are you looking at?" Before Eli could respond with some smart ass remark or even tell the little thug to get lost, the dealer pulled a knife out of the front pocket of his dark hoodie. The kid just held it there out in the open. Eli didn't think anything would happen, but then again, what does a drug dealer have to lose?
"Nothing," Eli whispered out just to be safe.
"Damn straight, pussy," the dealer said as he put the knife back in his pocket. He then walked forward as if Eli wasn't even there, pushing him aside with his shoulder as he passed. Eli looked up and saw the other sixteen year old just standing there wide eyed as he'd been doing ever since Eli pulled up.
"I'm...I'm sorry," the kid who was buying the drugs forced out before he ran off in a separate direction.
"Are you kidding me?" Eli said to himself standing in the middle of the parking lot. With a heavy sigh, he continued on towards his home. When he reached the front door he pulled out his keycard. After he had the card in his hand, he noticed that the lock had been damaged. Someone must have broken in earlier that day. He pulled the ”security” door open and continued on, not even in disbelief. Door after door he walked past on the first floor until he reached the stairwell at the end of the hallway. It was a four story building, with no elevator, and of course, Eli lived on the fourth floor, at the top of the building. He wrapped his hand around the doorknob to the stair well and slowly twisted it. He heard it click ever so slightly; the door flung wide open and a body dropped onto Eli's feet. A homeless man, possibly a dead one, had been sitting against the other side of the door and fell right through when Eli opened it.
"That's breaking and entering sir, and I believe that it is fairly illegal," Eli whispered, taking a big step over the seemingly dead body. He then started his long uphill journey—the staircase. As he passed the second floor he could hear loud music playing, and as he passed the third floor, he could hear what he thought was domestic violence behind one of the doors. Something horribly wrong was happening in one of the apartments, it sounded like a woman was being beaten to within an inch of her life. His heart pounded in his chest, he put his hand up to his forehead...but he figured it wasn’t his place to do something about it. People have privacy. He pressed on, finally reaching the fourth floor. He opened the large metal door and looked down the hallway. It was dark except for sporadic flickers from the fluorescent hallway lights. He set off down the abandoned corridor. He seemed to be the only one living there; he never saw people on his floor, heard no noise from neighbors, yet he lived at the last door on the left.
Eli finally made it all the way into his room, number 4-49. He always left his door locked; not that it would stop anyone from getting in or that there was really anything worth stealing, but because it made him feel better, and at least he could tell if someone had been there. He reached into his pocket for his keys, pulling out a ring of about ten keys. If not for the lack of light he could have easily picked the right key out from the rest, but instead he had to wait for bursts of light from above to illuminate the bunch. After several minutes of messing around he finally got the right one. He held the key firmly in his hand as he reached it towards the lock. The key missed the hole and fell from his hand. Eli stood there just looking at the keys splayed on the floor with his hand still extended. He felt defeated in this moment, such a small act had left him beaten and exhausted. By this time he should have been used to it though. Since birth he had been the type of guy who just had all around the worst luck with little things like this. He was the one who would beg to not settle something on a coin flip, or the guy that never won rock, paper, scissors no matter what. When he was younger and a teacher would randomly call on him in the middle of class with a right answer and a wrong answer to choose from, he would, without fail, choose the wrong answer. He breathed deeply and picked up the damned key ring.
Finally gaining access to his room, he set his backpack on the ground by the door and slipped off the only thing that was fairly decent in his life, his Nike running shoes. They were a gift to him from his parents on his last birthday. The logo was bright red with white everything else. They cost a few hundred dollars, making them the most expensive thing he owned, including his car. He headed over to his kitchen, which was pretty much in the same room as the living room. It was a tight fit, but he didn’t need any more space than he had. Once in the kitchen, he opened the fridge to see what was in there; even though he knew there wasn’t anything worth eating he was still hoping there would be. He closed the fridge with another heavy sigh and headed off to bed to try to get a few hours of sleep before his next shift.
Chapter Two
A NOW VERY sick Apollonia had her entire village in a commotion. They had tried all of their homemade remedies including using nearby vegetation ground down into teas and other traditional medicines. They felt as if they were running out of time; she seemed to be rapidly getting much worse in the two days since she had developed the sickness. Fearing she was out of options, her mother decided to take her many miles to the north of their village to a place where she knew sh
e could find someone who might help. An American logging company, known for removing a good portion of the Amazon’s trees each year, was located fifteen miles from the village. Whenever these lumberjacks made contact with the tribal people, they were very polite and offered what extra food they had and small trinkets the tribesmen were interested in such as keys or old mugs. Apollonia's mother hiked the entire fifteen miles carrying her child on her back, pushing through exhaustion and the intense heat. Losing her own daughter would be devastating to her personally, but to her village it would mean even worse. In such a small community it was crucial that women stayed healthy and grew old enough to help the tribe reproduce. Without Apollonia, the tribe could be in danger. Carrying this extra social pressure on her shoulders alongside the burden of Apollonia, her mother finally pushed through an opening in the dense rainforest to spot a large yellow machine in the distance. It was some type of tractor used to cut trees down. She began to sprint towards it, flailing one hand in the air. She didn't have the energy to scream, so the gestures were going to have to speak for her, which they did. One large man, sitting on his break, saw her heading towards them, he quickly set down the lunch he was eating and yelled for his other colleagues. Four men in hardhats and white t-shirts came running towards the large man who had hollered for them. When they neared Apollonia’s mother and saw what was happening they ran to meet her.
"Ma'am what's wrong?" the foreman said when he finally reached the sweat soaked woman. She didn't respond, which he figured might happen.